Written in the Stars
by hollyboo2001
Summary: Third story in the series following "Some Nights" and "Moon River". The countdown is on for a wedding that will make Bayport history. The Hardy and Cohen families are growing, but difficult times still lie ahead for Frank, Joe and their loved ones.
1. You are Cordially Invited

Chapter 1: You are Cordially Invited…

Mr. and Mrs. Moshe S. Cohen

Mr. and Mrs. Fenton B. Hardy

Cordially invite you to share in our joy

when our children

Phillip Aaron

and

Franklin Lewis

are united in marriage on

Saturday, the twenty-eighth of May,

at nine o'clock in the evening.

Beachwood Manor

1869 Shore Road

Bayport, NY

Dinner and Dancing to follow after the Ceremony.

Twenty-three year old Joe Hardy sighed contentedly as he read the crisp, white parchment's wording. He laid the rest of the mail, mostly bills, on the kitchen counter. There were a few other non-statement shaped envelopes in the pile as well in various shades of pink and other pastels. Joe gathered them in his hands and walked down the hallway to the freshly painted pink bedroom which was decorated with hand-painted picket fences and flowers in all the colors of the rainbow.

There he found the love of his life and wife, Vanessa, gliding sleepily in the chair that his own mother had lulled he and his brother Frank to sleep in when they were newborns. His wife's head was tilted to the left toward her shoulder. Nuzzled securely between her cheek and shoulder was the downy head of a tiny, pink newborn. They both must have dozed off after a feeding and just stayed that way after a successful burp. As badly as he hated to disturb Vanessa or their little Ashleigh, Joe was just itching to get his hands on the little bundle of joy.

"Van?" he whispered. Her eyes shot open and she seemed disoriented for only a moment, smiling when her eyes landed on Joe and she realized Ashleigh was still asleep. Joe held up the handful of mail and raised an eyebrow toward their daughter.

"Trade ya?" He whispered. After a little strategic maneuvering not to wake the sleeping infant Joe finally had her in his arms. Was it really possible to love someone so tiny so much? Sleepless nights, dirty, stinky diapers, spit-up, and ear piercing wails that would wake the dead… They were nothing compared to the way his heart absolutely melted when he held this little, squirmy baby in his arms.

Joe settled himself on the foot rest of the glider while Vanessa opened the "Congratulations on Your New Baby!" greeting cards. Where Joe would have just read them and tossed them, Vanessa was holding on to them for Mémé Andrea (as she now referred to herself) who was determined to use them for some sort of art collage she was working on for the nursery.

"Oh look! Here's the invitation for Frank's wedding!" Vanessa said excitedly. But just as quickly her face fell.

"Whazamatter Baby?" He asked when he noticed her scowl.

"The wedding is in eight weeks!"

"Well, yeah… of course. We've known since they booked the manor back in what, September, that the wedding was going to be Memorial Day weekend? We've got plenty of time to find a sitter."

"Maman's offered to watch Ashleigh. That's not the issue."

"Okay then, help me out Hon…"

"Look at me!" Vanessa hissed quietly as she stood up from the glider. Her ashe-blonde hair was pulled up in a loose ponytail with strands sticking out here and there. She was wearing one of Joe's old t-shirts, which was stretched tight across her post-pregnancy bust-line, and she was sporting a pair of her old, knit maternity pants which had a suspicious looking stain on the right leg.

"Honey, you're beautiful, and you just had a baby a week ago. _A week ago!_ Don't be so hard on yourself… Just think about all the fun you'll have. Remember fun? Dancing? A few sips of champagne? And do you recall what a few sips of champagne does to you?" Joe waggled and eyebrow but his attempts at humor and sexiness were not appreciated.

"I'm a hot mess! Look at my boobs! They're huge! None of my pretty dresses fit anymore, my feet got wider and my shoes don't fit, and look at my gut!" She grabbed at the deflated and loose skin of her midsection. "How are Frank and Phil still going want me to be an attendant?"

"Frank and Phil want you as an attendant because they love you and want you to a part of their wedding. And besides, our cousin Melissa is going to be an attendant too and she had twins three months ago!" Vanessa turned on her heel and glared at Joe

.

"Don't bring up Little Mrs. Perfect in front of me! The woman has five kids now and when she came to the baby shower last month she was back in a size four! Who does that?" Vanessa was loud enough just then that Ashleigh stirred in Joe's arms and her face scrunched in a look that threatened to turn into a full-blown scream. Vanessa quickly grabbed a pacifier from the table by the glider and popped it into Ashleigh's mouth. Joe patted her bottom and made quiet shushing sounds until the newborn was resting again. When he looked up from his daughter Joe saw that Vanessa was gone. The sound of the bathroom fan and the shower running clued Joe in that Vanessa was finally getting the only shower she'd probably had all day, and maybe even a good cry.

"I think Momma needs a nap." Joe whispered to the sleeping Ashleigh as he settled back in the seat of the glider.

**Author's Note:**

If anyone's read my most recent profile update, then you're aware of why it's taking me a while to get my head into this story. Please understand that the promptness my chapter updates in this new story will be grossly slower than in "Some Nights" and "Moon River". But I want to make it a story worth reading, and I'm still healing emotionally as well.

I said in my profile that I've decided this story will be somewhat lighter in nature, and I'll save the heavier and darker things for the one after.

So, enough of my moping…

I believe you ladies and gents just received a wedding invitation. Well now, best to see where they're registered and decide what you're wearing to the wedding. Let's see, a nine o'clock wedding, so that means it's formal…


	2. Dead Men Don't Pay Their Bills

Chapter 2: Dead Men don't Pay Their Bills

"This is without a doubt the dumbest idea you've ever had!" A harsh whisper came through Frank's in-ear communication device. The nearly twenty-five year old detective smiled cheekily, even though he knew his brother couldn't see him.

"You're just jealous because Dad doesn't want you playing dress-up while Van's on maternity leave." Frank retorted. His younger brother could only yawn involuntarily in response. "See, it's for your own good." The dark haired Hardy brother was dressed in a navy blue coverall and was toting tool bag. Even though he didn't have a search warrant, he knew of a loophole that would allow him to find the evidence he needed to help his client's case.

"Is their signal still scrambled by the way?" he asked as he limped up the reclaimed cobblestone sidewalk that lead to their client's home. Finally free of the use of a cane from the broken femur he endured over a year ago, Frank was still left with a slight limp that that was more pronounced the more tired he got. But he was using his injury to his advantage today, and along with a three-day growth of facial hair, his scruffy appearance would make the perfect cover for the operation he had in mind.

"Got it covered, they put in the call to North Cast about eight o'clock this morning." Joe confirmed from his position in the surveillance van.

"It's quarter after nine now! Perfect! Nora won't leave for her yoga class for a few more minutes, so she'll be able to invite you in to check out the internet reception. And it's Wednesday, Magdalena won't be back from the grocery store for about fifteen minutes, so she can witness you leave." Frank's client, Vic Halstead, said excitedly as he walked with Frank to the service entrance of his former home.

The two arrived at the rear of the stately home and Frank rang the doorbell. An attractive, slender woman with a fashionable haircut and well-manicured nails answered the door.

"Mrs. Halstead? Hi, I'm Terry from North Cast…" Mrs. Halstead's eyes raked over Frank's appearance and despite his efforts to appear less than attractive, Nora must have liked what she saw. She stood there in the doorway with a hand on one hip and her back arched slightly to put emphasis on her best "assets."

"Oh! Thank G-d! I was right in the middle of a purchase on Amazon when the damn thing blinked out on me! I tried restarting the computer, resetting the WiFi, nothing!"

"Well I'll be glad to take a look at it Mrs. Halstead." Frank said politely. Nora waved him in and closed the door just before Vic could enter. This did not deter Vic in the least as he passed on through, a less than amused look on his face.

Nora was dressed like she was prepared for a yoga session. She was sporting a pair of black knee-high yoga pants, and a racer back style top that accentuated her ample, gravity-defying breasts.

"I got her those when she turned 29. Nothing wrong with the set she had." Vic grumbled and they followed her up the grand staircase and into the formal study. Vic let out a sigh. Not much had changed about his homey, comfortable study other than a fine layer of dust covering anything in the room that had belonged to him. Nora must not want Magdalena cleaning or snooping around in there since he'd left.

They had shared the space during their marriage. Vic had even purchased a second desk and computer so that Nora could manage her work-from-home cosmetics business. Nora never claimed to be very computer savvy, so Vic pretty much had access to all of her office equipment whenever a problem came up, with just one caveat, he did not possess the key to her filing cabinet. Even when tax season rolled around and he needed her financials so he could file her taxes for her, Nora would never go into the cabinet while Vic was home. He would find the papers on his desk later in the evening when he got home from work. "That should have been my first red flag." Vic had said bitterly.

While Vic had been grumbling Frank had noticed a few things as they walked through the house that weren't adding up. If Nora was supposed to be leaving her yoga class soon, where was her rolled up yoga mat Vic had described? Or her gym bag that he said she'd always set out by the back door before she left?

Nora pulled out her office chair and allowed Frank to set about tapping on the keyboard to check out the computer's set-up.

"So," Nora began as she leaned over Frank and rested a hand on each shoulder, "are all North Cast technicians as cute as you?" Frank wanted to maintain an air of professionalism, but he also knew he'd get nothing accomplished if he played into her flirtations.

"Oh shit! Is she flirting with you?" Joe snickered into the mic. "But seriously Frank, you've got to get her out from under your ass so you can work!" Frank closed his eyes for a moment to steel himself for what he was about to say next.

"Go on son, play the gay card. Her first ex-husband came out of the closet on her. She'll give you a pretty wide berth once she realizes she can't get anywhere with you. Besides, the only gay friends she's interested in having now are the ones she can go shopping with, and you don't look the part." Vic assured Frank. It always irritated Frank how intuitive these kinds of clients were, as if they were mind readers or something…

Frank felt a slender hand beginning to trail seductively from his shoulder down to his chest. He cleared his throat and went for it.

"Actually yes. I think that's once of North Cast's hiring practices. You should see some of those guys. Nerdy and sexy?" Frank whistled lowly. "Wouldn't mind tapping a few of those assess myself." Inwardly Frank cringed, but his comment did achieve the desired effect. Nora took her hands off Frank as if he was scalding hot.

"Oh, huh, that's good to know." Her voice shook with embarrassment and she began to back out of the room. "If you hear some bumping around, my housekeeper is due back any time with the groceries and my yoga instructor is coming by for my lesson. We'll be down in the workout room in the basement if you need anything. Otherwise just leave your bill on the kitchen counter and Magdalena will let you out."

Mrs. Halstead left the room so Frank could get to work. When he was sure she was at least down on the first floor Frank reached into his tool bag and pulled out a small leather pouch. He fished out a pick and a tension wrench and went to work releasing the lock on Nora's oh-so-private filing cabinet.

"Would you mind keeping a lookout for your wife or Magdalena, Mr. Halstead?" Frank quietly asked the client, but Vic seemed distracted, and if it were possible, the older man's face looked like it was flushing red. "Mr. Halstead!" Frank hissed. Vic shook himself and nodded.

"It's Nora we've really got to worry about. Magdalena has been with me for years. I now feel like she tried to drop hints about Nora so many times, and I was just too blind to notice."

"Yeah, but Magdalena can't see you like I can. If she catches me going through Nora's things she'll raise an alarm regardless." Frank reminded Mr. Halstead. "And please, whatever you do, don't go down to the basement once her "instructor" gets here. You don't need to put yourself through that, and if we find what we're looking for anyway, she'll get her just desserts in the end. Okay?"

Vic's shoulders slumped. He nodded in agreement and floated through the study's wall. Frank rolled his eyes and continued to fiddle with the lock until he heard the satisfying click of the lock releasing and popping forward. Frank quietly pulled the top drawer open and began thumbing through file after file.

"Bingo!" He whispered when he found about three different life insurance policies, all stating that Nora Morgan Ingram Halstead would be the sole beneficiary of a collective one point five million dollars upon the death of one Victor Author Halstead. But the insured's signature was obviously a blatant forgery. Vic had already led Frank to his office in town to view documents with his actual signature on them. The state of New York had very specific guidelines for taking an insurance policy out on spouses, one being that the spouse had to be made aware and consent to the policy, and the other that a notarized signature be present on the document. Oh boy, some poor schmuck was about to find themselves in deep shit for notarizing these forgeries.

Frank took digital photographs of all the documents. He closed the drawer carefully and began to check the second drawer. Nothing noteworthy there, just some files labeled "Marabelle Cosmetics Orders: October, Twenty eleven", "Marabelle Christmas promotion: Twenty twelve"… but what was that grey looking box way in the back?

"Frank, you've got company! Some muscle-head just pulled up to the front entrance and he's letting himself in with a key." Joe alerted the older Hardy. Frank quickly snapped the file drawer's lock shut and stuffed his pick kit back into the tool bag. He faced the computer monitor and opened a few windows to look busy just in case someone stuck their heads in.

Thankfully all seemed quiet, he could detect a few voices coming from the first floor, but then all went silent until he heard another door open. A heavily accented feminine voice was grumbling in the kitchen. Something about _she was getting too old for this shit_, and _that stupid whore was young enough to bring in her own damn groceries, the arthritis in her back and shoulder were killing her_, and _there was no way in Hell she was cleaning up after those two if they fucked in the gym again, she didn't get paid enough for that!_

"Oh! Magdalena? There's a tech from North Cast upstairs working on the internet." Frank heard Nora shout from another part of the house. "And Ramon and I are starting our yoga session, make sure the North Cast guy leaves the bill on the counter before he leaves!"

"Yes Miss Nora!" the housekeeper called back, then muttered a few other unsavory expletives in Spanish that she was sure Nora couldn't hear or understand.

Frank worked the lock back open and proceeded to pull the second drawer out a little further. He reached in his bag for a pair of latex gloves and then carefully extracted the grey box from the drawer. Inside there were small glass bottles of what looked like sea salt, until Frank got a better look the labels. "Sodium cyanide." he hissed.

"Vic?" Frank called quietly, "Vic, are you still with me?" Mr. Halstead's head and shoulder appeared through the office's rich wood paneling. He looked pissed off, but his ire did not seem to be directed at Frank.

"What did you find son?" Vic asked gruffly while the rest of his form entered the room and glided over to where Frank was sitting.

"I found the insurance policies you suspected, but take a look a this." Frank held up a bottle so that the ghost could see it better.

"Salt?"

"Sodium cyanide. Did Nora handle your food a lot near the end?" Vic nodded, though he still hadn't put two and two together yet.

"Yes. The doctor had me on a low sodium diet. So Nora got that salt substitute to flavor my food with. When I had my heart attack they restricted my diet to no sodium, so Nora snuck some of my salt substitute into the hospital for me … Oh. That bitch!" Frank just shook his head and took more pictures.

"Well, we now have probable cause for the judge to issue a search warrant, as well as a motive and means. State's attorney is going to love this."

With enough documented evidence to turn over to Conrad Riley at the State's Attorney's office, he knew the well-connected attorney could expedite a search warrant from the judge. Then Bayport's Chief of Police, Erza Collig, and his boys in blue would be knocking on Mrs. Halstead's front door by this time tomorrow morning. Frank was careful enough to put everything back in it proper place, lock the filing cabinet and began to fill out a bogus service bill. Mid way through filling out the bill he stopped to signal his brother.

"Joe? You awake buddy?" Frank asked. He heard a muffled yawn and the clearing of a throat.

"Yeah, I'm here and I'm awake, barely. Are you almost done in there?" Joe returned drowsily.

"Yep. How about unscrambling that signal for me and let me check the connection, then I'm out of here."

"You've got it brother." Joe tapped on a couple of the keys on the laptop he had inside the van and checked back in with his brother.

"How's it now?"

"Works like a charm." The older Hardy answered quietly as he performed a quick connectivity check. A look into Mrs. Halstead's browser history sent up red flags in Frank's brain. Searches had been made on how to set up overseas accounts, travel websites to Europe, hotels, etc. Nora Halstead was a possible flight risk! It was a good thing Vic's spirit had contacted Frank before too much time passed or the "black widow" and her boy-toy would have been long gone, laughing the whole thing off while soaking up the sun on some exotic beach. Frank backed out of the system and left everything as he found it.

"I'm packing it in and heading to the kitchen to drop off the bill." He whispered to Joe. Frank looked around the room. There was still no sign of his client. Frank sighed heavily, packed up his equipment and headed for the kitchen with the false invoice.

He didn't see anyone in the kitchen at first as he laid the slip of yellow paper on the counter, other than the fact that the industrial sized refrigerator's door was open. Frank assumed Magdalena was still putting the groceries away.

"Dejaré la Sra. Halstead de aquí. Bueno Señora Magdalena?*" But it wasn't Magdalena, or anyone who would look like a middle-aged housekeeper who stepped back from the cover of the big refrigerator door.

Instead a very tall, very sweaty, and very attractive man closed the stainless steel door. There was something eerily familiar about Ramon as he sauntered over to the kitchen counter that made a thrill of fear shiver down Frank's spine.

"Magdalena's in the laundry room, but I'll let Nora know you're done." The dark haired man said smoothly as he came even closer, placing a chilled bottle of water on the counter. Frank smiled, nodded, and as he turned away from Ramon to open the back door and broad hand splayed out on the door at eye level, stopping Frank in his tracks.

"You know, Nora was right. For a computer geek, you're kinda hot. Even if you do play for the other team." Frank grimaced at the yoga instructor's crude words. He'd had to deal with his share of homophobic comments and reactions since he'd come out of the closet back in college, but what the taller man said next shocked him.

Ramon leaned in close enough so that his warm breath tickled Frank's ear. "You know Nora and I were talking. If they're paying you by the hour, why not stay a little longer? We'll make it worth your while, I've always been a little bi-curious, and Nora gives amazing head." Frank stiffened there where he stood. Ramon had spoken into the ear with the communication device and he prayed for all he was worth that Joe had the good sense to stay quiet and stay in the van.

There had been quite a bit of role-reversal for the Hardy brothers in the last year and a half. Ever since Frank had been kidnapped, physically and mentally tortured twice in a year's time, Joe had become very protective of his older brother. Quite a shift in their previous fraternal dynamic. But Frank was determined to be able to stand on his own two feet again, and to return to the protective role he'd played all his life in his and Joe's relationship, especially now that Joe was a new father. And he had to get out of there as soon as possible so he could turn in the information he had on the murderous Mrs. Halstead.

"As fun as that sounds, I've already got another job lined up that I need to get to." Frank tried to push his way past the larger man. Apparently, Ramon was a man used to getting his way. He pushed Frank's right shoulder until the dark haired Hardy was pinned between the door and the sweaty instructor.

"Ah, come on…" He glanced down at the nametag on Frank's coveralls. "Terry. You can't tell me the idea of a few extra dollars and a morning of fun doesn't sound like a good idea to you?"

Frank was frozen. Suddenly, in his mind, he was in all the horrible places with all the horrible people that had made his nights during his recovery a living hell.

"Frank? Bro, do you need me? Give me a sign and I'm in there in second!" Frank heard his brother's voice in ear. That seemed to help snap Frank back to the here and now. Ramon had started to lean in with his mouth poised for a kiss. Frank placed his hands against the taller man's chest and pushed him back with more force than he intended. Ramon stumbled back clear to the other end of the counter, his lower back smacking against the granite countertop and causing the taller man to bounce, holler in pain and slide to the floor.

"I think I made myself clear enough! Not. Interested." Frank said forcefully. He'd put enough distance between them that before Ramon could stagger to his feet Frank had opened the back door and dashed out. He walked as steadily as he could before he reached the van and jumped into the driver's seat.

"Frank? Are you alright?" Frank didn't say a word as he turned on the ignition and put the car in drive. Joe clamored up to the front passenger seat. His brother's face was pale and he could tell he was trembling.

"Talk to me!" Joe said a little more sternly, but with the tone of concern.

"I'm fine."

"Famous last words." The blonde brother muttered. He could see Frank's lips tighten into a thin line. Fine. Frank was shutting down. Well, it was useless to get Frank to open up about what happened in the Halstead's home then and there. Frank would come around eventually, that was just how he operated, especially here in the last year or so.

Ten-thirty the next morning Joe received a call from Ezra Collig that Nora Halstead was under arrest and currently being booked on charges of first degree murder and insurance fraud. When he walked into Frank's office to relay the information, his older brother already had a peaceful look on his face.

"Collig just called. Nora Halstead…"

"I know." Frank sighed. "Vic's moved on."

"Well, that's a relief." Joe said as he sat down in the chair across Frank's desk.

"Yep." Frank gave his brother a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "One down, hundreds more to go."

"You're kidding, right? Hundreds?" But Frank raised his hands helplessly.

"I'm still trying to learn how to block them out Joe. I get together with that hippy-dippy therapist at least once a week. But I guess word has gotten around in the hereafter that there's a medium who's also a detective. It's like someone's knocking on the door almost all the time."

"Speaking of which…" Frank and Joe turned their heads simultaneously to see their father, Fenton, standing in the doorway with a stack of mail in his hands. "I'm glad you boys brought the Halstead woman to justice, but we need to switch our focus back to our living clients too. You two killed four days working on the Halstead case when we've got at least three new clients who have called and need to be interviewed. He slapped the white envelopes in his right hand into his left for emphasis.

"I don't mean to sound cold hearted boys. That Halstead woman needed to be brought to justice, no doubt about it. But dead clients don't pay their bills." With that Fenton Hardy turned away from Frank's office and walked into his own.

*Spanish: I'll leave Mrs. Halstead's bill here. Okay Ms. Magdalena?

**Author's Note:**

Told you this story would be slow going, but I hope it's worth it. Read and review if you please. And as always, thanks for your continued readership.


	3. Slowly But Surely

Chapter 3: Slowly But Surely

"Happy Birthday" there was a kiss to Frank's temple. "To you."

"Happy Birthday," a kiss to his earlobe, "to you."

"Happy Birthday," Phil Cohen nuzzled and kissed that soft, sensitive part of Frank's neck. "Dear Fra-ank."

"Happy Birthday to you." Phil lightly grazed his lips across Frank's as the semi-conscious birthday boy smiled and wrapped an arm around his fiancé. Frank pulled Phil closer and deepened the kiss, lazily tracing the lines of Phil's bare back with his finger tips, mindful to keep his hands north of the equator. Phil ran his hands over the shoulder and sleeve of Frank's t-shirt, relishing in the feel of Frank's defined muscles and the warmth that permeated from beneath the cotton fabric.

Phil pulled way just enough to run his tongue over Frank's lips, and was rewarded with a moan rising up from Frank's throat. Phil's hand traveled further south down Frank's ribs and to a swath of exposed skin just above the elastic waist of his pajama bottoms. He immediately regretted the move when Frank's hips jerked slightly, and not in a good way. But before Phil could utter an apology, Frank recovered quickly and broke the kiss with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Good Morning, Love." Frank smiled as he looked into Phil's eyes. "That has to be my favorite way to wake up on my birthday. Thank you." He kissed his fiancé again and pulled him closer to his chest, but making sure to leave some distance between their hips. Phil sighed…

_Damn those blasted vampires, werewolves and dark elves that did this to Frank! Phil loved Frank with all his heart, and he'd wait until the end of time if that's how long it would take Frank to be ready to be as intimate as they once were. But the rape, molestations, mental torture and nearly being sold as a sex slave months ago had taken its toll on Frank in a way that had eventually affected their relationship as well. Dr. Berber, Frank's former therapist, had been able to help to a degree, but then there were the new developments, like the awakening of Frank's supernatural heritage._

_Yes, Frank could see dead people. Not only that, but because his mother, Laura, was a supernatural being as well, an Elf of the Light, Frank had inherited her gift of foresight, and his grandmother's gift to communicate with the deceased. These weren't great gifts as one might think. The oldest of the Hardy brothers was plagued by unwanted and poorly timed visits from those who still existed between death and the hereafter. And as far as his gift for seeing the future, Frank couldn't tell you who was knocking on the front door without looking. It was more like Frank would have visions of a possible, distant future. And from what Frank was able to tell Phil, theirs was destined to be a very long and happy one. _

_Frank just needed time. Time to get a better handle on his new abilities, and time to heal physically and mentally. So enter Dr. Jacob Eisner, or as Frank usually referred to as Dr. Hippy-Dippy. He was a short, balding man with a closely trimmed beard and half-moon glasses. But he came highly recommended by Dr. Bluma Schwartz while Frank was hospitalized in New Orleans, so he finally broke down and set up an appointment. _

_Most of their sessions were spent sitting cross-legged on papas an cushions doing controlled breathing exercises and discussing whatever Frank felt like talking about. The difference between Dr. Eisner and his former psychiatrist was that Frank was able to talk about the vampires, werewolves, Dark Elves, about his own half-human, half-elf discovery and Dr. Hippy-Dippy didn't bat an eyelash. Instead he would let Frank talk and he'd nod understandingly. _

_But he did agree with Dr. Berber in that Frank should hold off on being intimate with his fiancé for a bit longer, but for different reasons._

_"Think of it this way Frank… Phil has so far been your only partner that you've ever truly loved and willingly been intimate with. Yes?"_

_"Yes."_

_"And how did your first time go?" Dr. Eisner leaned in to ask._

_"Uh…well…" Frank's face flushed as he hesitated._

_"Did he pressure you into it? Was it his idea?"_

_"No! I had thought long and hard about it. It was a gift, I gave my virginity to him." Dr. Eisner smiled at Frank._

_"Exactly! You gave yourself to Phil. You were in control! Unfortunately you had no control over what happened to you while you were a captive. Take your control back! Let this time that you have before the wedding be like starting over again. Enjoy each other the way you did before you became intimate. So when your wedding night comes you are willfully giving yourself to Phillip again, and vice versa. Except this time you are also cementing your new life as husbands with the gift and joy of sex…"_

Phil hugged Frank tighter in their bed as he thought back to when Frank told him what Dr. Eisner suggested and thus officially calling a time out on their sex life. True, it had been hard, very, very hard. Yet it was also a testament to Frank's love for him - that he wanted their wedding night to be as much of a gift of love as the first time Frank gave himself to Phil.

"I love you Frank." Phil leaned back enough so he could gaze into those chocolaty brown eyes as he said it. And a rare thing happened. A genuine smile that actually reached Frank's eyes curled across his face and he reached out to stroke Phil's stubbly cheek with his hand.

"I love you Phil. And I think that's the best gift I could ever receive."

"Oh? So does that mean I have to call off all the plans I've made for your big day? It's not everyday you turn twenty-five." Phil returned, but Frank smirked.

He remembered the shin-dig Phil's parents threw for his twenty-fifth birthday last Fall. It sort of reminded him of Phil's bar mitzvah, except without the Torah reading, awkward teenagers and there was much, much more alcohol.

"So what's on the agenda?" Frank propped his head up with this elbow.

"Well… since you were lucky enough for your birthday to land on a Saturday this year, you can sleep in as long as you like… Mama Hardy, your dad, Joe and Van want us to swing by for a late lunch and to give you your birthday presents. And I've got a table reserved at Pasquale's for eight o'clock. You me, Chet and his lady friend, Biff and Amy. Some dinner, slow dancing…"

"Sounds like a nice day you've got planned there." Frank smiled and kissed Phil again.

"Of course, it's your day, you can do whatever it is you want." Phil suggested as he ran his hands through Frank's soft, chestnut colored hair.

"I like your idea more." Frank smiled sleepily.

…..

Laura Hardy sat in the window seat of her bedroom, admiring the pages of one of the two baby books she had so faithfully kept up. The pages were a bit tattered around the edges, the tape holding pictures and little mementos were starting to yellow and give way. But each book was precious to her. And if the house were burning down and she could only grab two material things, it would be these two albums.

She remembered Frank's birth so vividly - the shock on the doctor's face when he first saw her son's ears. The emergency call to a specialist her father, Elwood Lewis, knew of to take care of the matter quickly while she and Frank were still in the maternity ward. The good doctor took care of it and the circumcision at the same time. Thank goodness it had been a cool April when Frank was born, those little knit newborn caps came in pretty handy as she kept her baby's ear's and head covered. And no one would dare question the new mother's over-protectiveness.

Fenton, bless his heart, had been overseas working on a special operation with Scotland Yard when she had gone into labor two weeks early. Thank goodness for her quick-witted and doting father. By the time Fenton made it back stateside, baby Franklin's ears had healed to mild pink marks on the top of each ear.

"It was just the way his head was laying against Laura's pelvis, Son. The pediatrician said they could either fix it now or his ears would be like a Scottish Fold's*, and a the scarring would be obvious" Elwood Lewis had told his son-in-law when he took the panicky young father to the side for a talk. "Twas a simple procedure, like removing a superficial sixth finger or toe. The lad barely cried."

Laura and Elwood had lied through their teeth. But what else could she and her father do at the time? She'd never told Fenton the truth about her own true heritage and she didn't want to start. There was a saying Laura had learned quickly when she and her father came to live in the human realm: "Truth is stranger than fiction". And when she had met Fenton Hardy, a young, up-and-coming police officer, and heard the hair-curling details of some of the cases he had been working on, well… Some things were just better left unsaid. If Laura was guilty of anything, it was the sin of omission.

She ran her delicate fingers over the taped photos, but then turned to the very back of the album. Laura lifted the paper edge of the book's binding to a little nook she had created over the years to hide a few pictures. Pictures she never intended to show anyone in her lifetime, but she couldn't find it in her heart to destroy them. That was, until Frank's injury, and the need for a transfusion. Not just any transfusion, but a transfusion of her blood to fight a deadly, supernatural bacteria. And that act alone had led to the revelation of a past Laura had long wanted to forget, but a place, given the chance, that she would return to without a moment's hesitation.

A knock at the bedroom door pulled her away from her little trip down memory lane. She closed the album shut with a loud slap and turned to see her husband of over thirty years standing in the doorway.

"Hey." He said softly as he entered their bedroom. Emphasis on _their_ bedroom. Accepting his eldest son being gay was a piece of cake compared to learning the truth about his wife. His wife who he'd trusted unfailingly for the past thirty some years until… Well, once the dust had settled, Frank was back home and healing, and Vanessa's pregnancy was progressing normally, Fenton and Laura had sat down together and had a long, long talk, that turned into a shouting match, that turned into Laura kicking Fenton out of their bedroom. And because Fenton was as stubborn as his sister Gertrude was sharp tongued, Fenton spent many nights, at least two months, sleeping in Joe's old bedroom.

It took a tongue lashing from said sister to get Fenton to humble himself and set aside his foolish pride, to try to see things through Laura's eyes. He sat down with Laura again and got her to open up about what she could remember of her childhood, the loss of her mother, learning to fit into human society in Ireland until she and her father's ears healed. About coming to the United States, being a latch-key kid while her father taught at the local high school all day, came home for dinner, and taught at the community college at night. Going to high school, a shy and timid Laura Lewis found every day tortuous, knowing which kids enjoyed teasing her endlessly, and which would eventually try to stab her in the back. Then she met Fenton one night at a friend of a friend's party just after she had graduated from college. And at first the future she saw scared her to death. The risks he and her future sons would take, the dangers. But there was love. A lifetime of love that lay ahead if she'd open herself up to it.

Now thirty some years later her silence had come back to bite her in the butt. In the ensuing argument, her feelings had been hurt and so had his. But no marriage with without it's ups and downs. So now they were reconnecting. Sleeping in the same bed again, Fenton bringing home flowers, Laura encouraging Gertie to go on those senior citizen bus tours to free up the house for the weekend. It was slow going, but they were getting there.

"Reminiscing over the Birthday Boy?" Fenton asked as he pushed himself away from doorframe and sat at the opposite end of the window seat. Laura nodded.

"Do you want to see "the" pictures?" she asked her husband, referring to the ones that had been hidden in the back of Frank's baby album. Fenton took a breath to steady himself and nodded in return. Laura opened the back of the baby album and peeled away the loose paper corner that hid a few photographs Fenton had never seen. At first glance, they weren't dissimilar to the ones that were already in the album. A younger, exhausted but glowing Laura was holding a small, red and screaming infant. His son, the child that made him a father. There was just one glaring difference… Frank's ears.

It was a good thing Laura had refused to show Fenton the pictures months ago when they had argued about the past. Back then he probably would have abhorred them. However, now that the he'd had time to become accustomed to Laura's elfish heritage, and the legacy that had been passed down to her sons, Fenton could appreciate these old photos for what they were. Pictures of his newborn son, precious and innocent in all of this, pointy ears and all.

"So, the Scottish Fold story?" Fenton smiled.

"Ada… um, Dad, it was his invention to justify the surgery. Dad and Dr. Wheeler were friends from when we first arrived in the human world, he did our ear surgeries."

"Dr. Wheeler? _Martin_ Wheeler? The medical examiner?" Fenton raised an eyebrow. He could never imagine quirky Dr. Wheeler having hands steady enough to perform such a delicate cosmetic surgery.

"Yes, he did almost all the ear modifications for the Elves who escaped the Middle Kingdom." Laura said. She looked at another of the old pictures. "Look at this one with Dad holding Frank. He knew Frank needed his ears fixed, but he was so proud Frank had a little something that reminded him of Mother. He said the little points looked like mine and Mother's. And oh, when Joe came along looking so much like our side of the family even though he didn't get the ears... He loved our boys so much." Laura's eyes became misty as she thought about her lovable father.

"So, how old was Elwood when he died? Really. Because from what you told me… your people live for quite a while."

"They live a lot longer in the environment of the Middle Kingdom than they do here in the human's realm. Less disease, cleaner environment, just… different. And it's not so much we live longer… we… they age slower. Dad was seventy seven when he died. But if he had been able to live out his years in the Middle Kingdom, even at seventy seven he wouldn't have looked a day over fifty. Would probably still be alive with another fifty some years to go." Laura dabbed her tearing eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed. "I wish Mother could have made the journey with us. But she sacrificed herself so I would have a safer future…"

Laura found herself enveloped in Fenton's strong arms as she nuzzled into his shoulder, letting decades of pent up emotions escape. Laura shook as she sobbed for her lost mother, her father, and the guilt of keeping those secrets hidden from her family for so long. She didn't think she'd cried this hard since she was a child.

"Laura, I'm so sorry we argued. And I'm so, so sorry you didn't feel like you could talk to me about all this. You've shoulder this burden long enough. But like I told you months ago, nothing you've told me changes the way I feel about you. You have been the most patient wife, and the most wonderful mother to our boys." Fenton said gently as he stroked the back of Laura's head. "And you're going to make one Hell of a grandmother."

Laura sniffed and sat back, a watery smile on her face.

"And I'm sorry I've been such a hard-headed pain in the ass. With all the strange things we've… I've… had to learn to accept in the last year, I just never thought…" But Fenton let his weak voice trail off. There was no use rehashing what all he'd gone through, because it was nothing compared to what his sons and wife have had to live through. With Laura's foresight, she probably had visions of the vampires, witches and werewolves that their sons had dealt with. Fenton had spent his life trying to keep the world safe for his wife and sons, and now they were doing the same for him.

Just then his sister Gertrude passed the door and stopped, noting Laura's tear-streaked face. She shot her brother a look, one that the younger Hardy brother knew meant "You've don't again, haven't you?" But Fenton pulled his wife into his arms again and planted a kiss on the top of her head, all while glaring at his sister with a look that read "Scram!"

Gertrude shook her head and quietly padded down the hallway with her armload of table linens for Frank's lunchtime birthday celebration. She allowed herself to sigh loudly as she unfurled the table cloth and draped it over the dining room table. She was so glad Fenton and Laura had finally made amends. Joe and Vanessa were learning to become terrific parents. And Phil was doing an amazing job helping and being patient with Frank as he healed from his injuries, on the inside and out.

Yes indeed. Slowly but surely, things were finally starting to get back to normal. However, when you're a Hardy, _normal_ held a very wide definition.

*Scottish Fold: a breed of cat that as a dominant gene mutation that causes it's ear cartilage to fold.

**Author's Note:**

Once again, my family has experienced grief and loss. You can check the bottom of my profile page for the details.

Thanks for your faithful readership and patience.


	4. Things are Looking Good

Chapter 4: Things are Looking Good

"I can't decide who she looks like Van, you or Joe." Phil said as he cooed over the infant bundled in his fiancé's arms.

"Oh, Ashleigh most definitely looks like her mother. I wouldn't put the burden of looking like Joe on anyone."

"Hey!" Frank snickered at his brother's mock indignation. He stroked his niece's soft cheek with his finger. The infant turned her face toward the finger brushing her cheek and opened her mouth hungrily, catching Frank's knuckle in the process.

"Oops! Someone's hungry." Frank chuckled and handed his niece back over to her mother.

"I'll head upstairs to Joe's old room and feed her." Vanessa could already feel a warmth spreading through her chest as she pulled her daughter to her and headed upstairs.

"Go ahead and start lunch without me Laura, this could take a while." The new mother called over her shoulder.

"Are you sure sweetie? We can wait."

"That's okay, one of you can hold her while I eat. Just save a plate of food for me." Vanessa smiled and disappeared to the second floor of the Hardy's old Victorian home.

"I'll go check on her after a while. She gets some of her best sleep after a feeding." Joe said as he watched his wife reach the landing and turn in the direction of his old bedroom.

"The baby?" Aunt Gertrude asked.

"No, Van." Joe chuckled.

"I keep telling her she could just switch to formula and add a little rice cereal in it for that eight o'clock feeding and that baby will be sleeping through the night in no time. That's what my mother did for me and Fenton. Heavens, by the time Fenton came along I was old enough to feed him when it was Mother's turn to host Bridge night…" Gertrude yammered on about how things were done three generations ago while Laura sipped her tea, discreetly rolling her eyes when her sister-in-law's head was not turned her way.

Laura was simply relieved that her granddaughter had cute, round little ears like Vanessa's. For Joe's young family's sake, she hoped Ashleigh took as much as possible from the Bender side of the family. The more human she was, the safer she would be. It was hard enough thinking about what Frank had to deal with, but at least he and Phil were going to consider adoption after they had been married a year. The possibilities of elfish offspring in Frank's branch of the family would at least end with him, and that came as a great comfort to Laura. The less Elf blood that pumped through the veins of her descendants, the safer her family would be…

….

"Mornin' Sunshine!" Biff Hooper greeted his girlfriend as she gracefully crossed the den from the bedroom. After a night of surveying the rooftops and alleyways of downtown Bayport, a sated and justified Amy Johnson had let herself into Biff's apartment just a few hours before he had to get up for work and slept the day away while her inamorato left for his job as a trainer in a gym he hoped to own one day.

Biff was still slightly sweaty from his day of work, an attribute that Amy would normally find revolting, especially in a human. But Allen "Biff" Hooper was no ordinary human. He was a vampire hunter and slayer, and as such, he supplemented his diet with vampire blood to give himself the strength to carry on the long standing Hooper family occupation. His girlfriend, Amy, was a well-over six hundred year old vampire. An odd couple, no doubt. But it was their mutual respect and friendship for Frank and Joe Hardy that brought the unlikely duo together.

"Did you have a pleasant day at work?" Amy asked as she walked up behind his muscular frame and encircled his waist with her own dark, lean arms. She kissed the back of his neck and watched as gooseflesh rose where her cool lips had touched him. He hummed blissfully as he continued to filter through the day's mail, separating his mail from his roommate's, Chet Morton. He reached two square, white envelopes and stopped, gazing at the handwritten addresses on the front. One was addressed to Mr. Chester Morton and Guest. The other was addressed to Mr. Allen Hooper and Miss Amy Johnson.

"Ah! Frank and Phil's wedding invitations." He held up the two envelopes so that Amy could see them over his shoulder. "Guess they sent your's with mine since you're with me all the time. Maybe Zeke's came to the apartment, you reckon?"

"I will have to ask him when I see him later tonight." Amy said quietly. Biff turned to look at her, there was a emotion crossing her features he was not familiar with.

"Are you okay Amy? Something wrong?" Biff asked. Amy Johnson always carried herself with such poise and an air of confidence that what Biff was seeing right now was completely foreign to him. If he could have compared that look to anything, it would be that of a scared and lost child. "Amy? Ameyo?"

Amy shook her head at the sound her true name, but quickly composed herself and an easy smile graced her exotic features.

"I am fine, I assure you. I suppose I am still a little sleepy." Amy answered quickly and silenced any further questions with a long, breath-taking kiss that left Biff slightly dizzy when she stepped away. After he had regained his bearings, Biff looked his girlfriend up and down, surveying her long, lean body.

"Do you need to go home to get ready for Frank's birthday dinner tonight, or did you pack something?" he asked casually as he tried to tamp down his growing desire for a little pre-dinner fun before they had to get ready for the party.

"I came prepared. You will be pleased, I assure you. Now Allen, please be kind enough to take a shower. Although I find _your_ smell appealing, the stench of your clients' sweat is a bit off-putting." Amy wrinkled her nose and turned to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of Perrier that Biff kept a stock of just for her.

"Will you be joining me?" Although he could still smell the lavender of her soap on her skin, he knew it couldn't hurt to ask. Amy smirked and shook her head.

"Chet will need hot water to get ready for the party too, it would be selfish to use it up, then he would be running late to pick up his date." Amy advised. Biff shrugged it off and headed to the bathroom. She was right, as usual. Chet was getting off his shift a few hours early just so he could get ready, pick up his date, and join the old gang in a timely fashion.

When Amy could hear the water from the shower running she picked the wedding invitation up and read the outer envelope again. "Mr. Allen Hooper and Miss Amy Johnson." As if Frank and Phil saw she and Allen as a couple, a mated pair, unlike Chet's invitation which concluded with "and Guest." Amy slowly shook her head again. She loved Allen, despite their opposite natures. There was something about the brawny vampire slayer that vexed her and attracted her at the same time. The last ten months had been the happiest she had experienced since… She couldn't allow herself to dwell on it right now or she could see herself being mired in pain in grief for hours, days even. She snapped open the bottle cap of the Perrier and took a long drink. The slight saltiness and the effervescence cleansed her palate and cleared her mind, purging her of her melancholy thoughts.

The apartment door opened and a very tired Chet Morton entered the doorway, hanging his keys on the rack by the door.

"Hey Amy!" the nurse greeted the vampire casually. It must have been a very busy and involved shift if the various essences of blood, bile, and other forms of vitality and death clung to Chet and his medical scrubs like a sickening sweet perfume. Chet and any other human probably would not be aware of it, but the smells were sharp to Amy's sensitive nose.

"Allen should be just a few more minutes in the shower, then it will be your turn. What time did your tell your lady friend you would pick her up?" She began to exit the kitchen and head for Biff's bedroom to get away from the nurse's fragrance. Chet simply chuckled at Amy's term "lady friend."

"I told Beth I'd pick her up around eight-thirty." He looked at the clock on the microwave oven and slouched. "But if I'm a minute or two late it's not the end of the world." Amy's eyes widened and she scowled.

"Chester Morton, you should know better. Never keep a lady waiting!"

"Yes Ma'am!" Chet called back as he headed toward his bedroom.

"I took the liberty to lay out something presentable for you to wear. Allen told me about your fondness for flannel and plaid." Amy called back, smiling mischievously when Chet turned on his heel and scowled.

"Thank you Amy." Despite the sarcastic tone in Chet's response, the vampire could detect a note of gratitude.

…..

"Are you taking the whole night off or are you just having dinner with Frankie and his bunch and then staying the rest of the night?" Marco Prito asked his younger brother, Tony. Tony looked up from his bookwork and glanced at the duty roster posted on the corkboard on his office wall. He'd made sure they were more than covered for the anticipated Saturday night crowd. He wanted to enjoy this time with his friends, he'd been so busy helping Marco turn Pasquale's into the popular nightspot that it now was, he felt it was his turn to reap what they'd sown. Marco had certainly taken nights off to spend with his wife and kids, leaving Tony to run things by himself.

"I think I'm taking the night off, we're covered. Besides, I haven't gotten to spend much time with the old gang in a long time." Then he turned serious. "Gotta problem with that?" But he quickly smiled to show his older brother he'd been joking.

"I guess we can do without you for _one_ night." Marco sighed with quite a bit of exaggeration. He leaned over and ruffled his younger brother's hair.

"Ay ay ay! Watch it! Do you know how long it takes to achieve this?" Tony fussed as he pulled a comb out of his desk drawer to smooth out the damage done. Marco rolled his eyes.

"How's this month looking by the way?" Marco asked his younger brother.

_Marco, unfortunately, had stepped in to the void filled by his grandfather's death right after he graduated from Bayport High School. He helped his father Paulo run Mr. Pizza while watching his buddies go off to college to take a tour in the military, then getting an education under the G.I. Bill. But baby brother Tony to was way too young to be of any help at the time. And when the time came and Tony got scholarship from the Knights of Columbus to go to Bayport Community College, yes he was a little jealous that Tony got to attend college and take a few business classes. _

_But changes in tax laws, filing employee earnings, using a computer, and what-not was starting to overwhelm business savvy Nonni*, Margarita Prito, Paulo's mother and the Prito matriarch. So when Tony finally finished enough classes at Bayport's community college and worked up the courage, he approached his father and brother with the wild idea to retire the Mr. Pizza name. They both balked. Close Mr. Pizza? Unheard of! Thankfully Margarita had stepped in with her support. _

_"Your Nonno* Pasquale came to this country with big dreams. And he worked hard, and he did well, but he always wanted something more than just a pizza parlor. He wanted something bigger, nicer… but eh…Your Nonno, he did not have much of an education, you know? He started this place with what he and his brother could scrape together, and look around you! Three generations later and we're still in the same little hole in the wall that Nonno and Enzo started. Paulo, look at your two boys! All Marco has known since high school is this place, and Anthony… he's lucky, he's got the education, the book smarts to run it right. It's a big risk, but let them try!"_

_"But Mama, Mr. Pizza has been a Bayport landmark for over fifty years." Paulo objected. He looked at his sons' young faces. _

_Mama was right, it wasn't fair to expect his sons to toss pies for the rest of their lives. He did remember his father talking to him during the nightly clean up of how he'd dreamed of having this big fancy eatery like the one he'd worked at back in the old country. But the business of making pizza and submarine sandwiches were all he'd ever known. Leave it to Nonni, and her gift for the art of compromise…_

_It was a big risk, there were times when Marco thought for sure he'd made the biggest mistake of his life, allowing Nonni to lend he and Tony part of her life's savings to find a new location, fix it up, interview and hire honest-to-G-d chefs, wait staff, the works. But Tony and Marco soon learned to play off each other's strengths. Marco concerned himself with kitchen and bar operations, Tony worked the books and did the moving and shaking of advertising, hiring the right wait staff, keeping the customers happy and coming back._

_So for Tony to take one night off was not the end of the world. They'd worked hard in the past two years and they had made Nonni Margarita not only proud, but they had managed to pay her a quarter of what she had lent them back. Things were good._

"Things are good! Really good Marco. Nonno would be so proud, you know? When Nonni told us what his initial intentions were… I felt like we're finally making his and our dreams come true!" Tony sat back from his desk, loosened his tie and released the top button. That was the nonverbal sign to Marco that Tony was officially off-duty.

"Yeah." Marco smiled with a note of sentimentality in his voice. Then he perked up and gave his baby brother a warning glare. "Don't party too hard tonight. We run a respectable joint here. The part-owner getting shit-faced*, not classy."

"When was the last time _you_ saw me get that drunk?" Tony asked innocently.

"I believe when you were spending your evening in the same company as you will be sharing tonight. A certain engagement party…" Tony rolled his eyes.

"I'll behave. Besides, that girl I met a couple of weeks ago, Robyn Blackmon, she's my date tonight. Don't want to get sloppy in front of her."

"Ah yeah. Her folks, especially her dad, _Councilman Blackmon_, are pretty good customers, here and back at Dad's place. Don't blow it!"

…..

Marco paced around the perimeter of Pasquale's, keeping eye out for rowdy patrons or couples getting a little too frisky on the dance floor. Like he told his baby brother, he wanted to keep Pasquale's a classy place for his patrons to enjoy. He walked over to one of his bouncers, a tall, broad shouldered, muscular African-American man named Shawn Winters.

"How's it lookin' from this end?" Marco asked quietly.

"Lookin' good from here, Mr. M." As the taller man surveyed his end of Pasquale's. "You know, you could have just buzzed me." He tapped the communication device in his ear that extended down toward his mouth.

"Eh, all that new fangled tech, that's Tony's thing. I'm more of a people person." Marco smirked. Shawn smiled and pressed his earpiece.

"Yo Danny, how's it near the bar?" Shawn buzzed his co-worker and fellow bouncer Danny Silvio.

"Eh, got a couple o' chowda heads that'll need a cab pretty soon. But other than that, everyone seems to be playing nice."

"Keep an eye on the party boys. Mr. T's entertaining Council Blackmon's daughter tonight. Capisce?"

"Capisce, Shawn." Danny answered back and moved in a little closer to keep an eye on the two patrons near the bar who had been there since eight o'clock.

"Nice! You're Italian's getting better."

"Thank you." Shawn smiled. Marco patted Shawn's shoulder and left the bouncer so he could maintain his vigil of the dance floor, and Marco headed toward the kitchen to see how ticket times were coming.

…

It was no accident that the same night Tony asked Robyn Blackmon out for a second date, was the same night Phil booked for Frank's birthday party, and was the same night he booked the local cover band. He wanted this night to be special. "The Expressos." Horrible name, yes, but they were quite good at performing a wide genre of music, and his in-house DJ Tommy had worked with them before.

Tony held Robyn Blackmon in his arms as they swayed to the music. He'd met the ad executive when she had approached Pasquale's to advertise in the local tourism magazine. There seemed to be a chemistry between them that neither could deny. Tony just felt something about the raven haired woman with pale blue eyes and a charming smattering of freckles across her face that made the workaholic melt. So two weeks after they first met, Tony finally worked up the nerve to ask her out on a date.

They didn't quite consider themselves a "couple" yet, but things were moving along, calling and chatting with each other on a daily basis. Her father, Councilman Randall Blackmon, was, historically, a good customer of Mr. Pizza's in his pre-political days. However, learning that his little girl was starting to date the son of the owner of the local pizza joint who only had a community college education did give him pause. Robyn was kind and honest enough to give Tony the head's up. Randall had really hoped Robyn would find a lawyer, doctor, or another politico to pair up with.

"Daddy's letting his position get to head. The Pritos are good people and you and your brother are running a fine establishment. Local food and entertainment critics have given you guys five stars fifteen months consecutively."

This assuaged any doubt Tony had about pursuing a relationship with Robyn.

"Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?" Tony whispered in her ear, pulling her closer and enjoying the scent of her perfume.

"This will make the third time, so yes, you have." Robyn giggled and smiled. "You're nervous about me liking your friends aren't you?" Her impish features were highlighted by her short, trendy haircut, but all Tony could do was stare and nod honestly.

"You have a very, _eclectic_, circle of friends. They're very nice. Biff and Amy are an odd couple, but you can tell they care very much for each other. Chet's a hoot and his girlfriend Beth seems sweet, but they've just started dating too, right?"

"Yeah, they started talking about the same time we met. They work the same shift in the E.R." Tony confirmed.

"But what about the elephant in the room?" Tony narrowed his eyes to gage her reaction.

"Oh, you mean the two gay elephants dancing on the other side of the dance floor? Pffft… Tony, do you know how many gay men and women work in advertising? When I finally get around to introducing you to my circle of friends you're going to get the third degree from Lee. We've been besties since college and we've cried on each other's shoulders over many a romance gone wrong. And I'd be just as bitchy about any new boy he brought around as he'll be around you. So consider yourself warned."

"Yes Ma'am. So that means you're cool about Phil and Frank?"

"They're adorable. You can just see how much they love each other by the way they regard one another."

"They've been through a lot. Frank's had a rough go of it but Phil's been by his side the whole time. Not many hetero couples can endure what they've been through and still come out the stronger for it." Robyn could see the pride and adoration for Tony's friends in his face.

"That's true love." She whispered. Tony planted a kiss on Robyn's cheek.

"Now, you want to talk about true love, I wish you could meet Joe and Vanessa. Joe used to date Chet's sister, but she died tragically back when we were sophomores in high school. Joe got really down and was in a pretty dark place. Vanessa moved to town and started attending Bayport High. They were thrown together as lab partners, then they formed a friendship... She really helped pull him out of the funk he'd been in for months, and well, the rest is history. They got married not quite a year ago and she just had a baby. You'll like them when I finally get to introduce you to them, they're fun."

"_You're_ fun. I like you Tony Prito, a lot. I feel like when I'm with you I don't have to put my "all business" face on. Like I can relax and be myself."

"I like you too, I mean really like…" Tony's heartfelt sentiment was cut off by some sort of commotion coming from the other side of the dance floor.

…

Author's Notes:

*Nonno = Familiar Italian word for Grandfather

*Nonni = Familiar Italian word for Grandmother

*Shit-faced = slang for drunk, inebriated


	5. Consider Yourself Warned

Chapter 5: Consider Yourself Warned

**Warning: Homophobic language, behavior and violence mentioned in this chapter.**

A half hour earlier:

"Oh Frank, I'm so sorry! I'm such a klutz!" Beth apologized fiercely as she tried to dab at the red wine she had spilt on Frank's sleeve with her napkin. The poor girl looked about as tired as Chet did. Normally, Chet's fellow E.R. nurse was in bed by this time of night, it was just Frank's misfortune that the overworked girl was so tired she'd gotten a little clumsy after a few sips of her wine.

"It's okay Beth, really! I'll head to the men's room and see if I can get some of it out. Really, no problem." Frank tried to comfort the young lady who was nearly at the point of tears.

"Hey Frank," Tony reached into his jacket pocket and procured what looked like a small felt-tipped pin. "Dab some of this on the stain, should take most of it out right then and there." He saw the questioning glance on a few of his tablemate's faces. "What? You can't run a restaurant and not have something on you to clean up little splatters of marinara!"

Frank accepted the stain stick and headed towards the men's room. He noticed for a busy night, the restroom was quiet and vacant. He thought that was a little odd, but took the opportunity for what it was and started rubbing the solution from the stain pen into his sleeve. Sure enough the burgundy blotch began to lighten and was barely visible on the pale blue of Frank's dress shirt in a matter of minutes. Just as he replaced the cap on the pen, the hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle and he felt a cold presence behind him.

Frank looked up in the mirror, and was not surprised to see Eric Langhorne leaning against the tiled wall behind him. Frank had no idea how those in the afterlife maintained a wardrobe, or if it was just a manifestation they wanted those they could communicate with to see…but Eric was dressed very neatly in a tailored grey suit with matching shirt and a pale blue tie.

"Looking sharp for a dead guy." Frank snarked and he looked back down to his hands and washed them to get the stain solution off.

"Well, you know with your birthday and all, I wanted to look my best. Happy birthday Frank." The apparition responded. He moved closer to Frank and leaned against the vanity as the brunette tried his best to ignore the ghost of his dead ex-boyfriend. Correction, dead ex-boyfriend, kidnapper, rapist, and savior. Although Frank didn't put much stock in the savior part, Eric died trying to right all the wrongs he'd committed against Frank.

It was that one thing that was keeping Eric Langhorne from moving forward to his final judgment and the great beyond… He needed Frank's forgiveness, which was not something Frank had been able to give Eric genuinely, no matter how hard he tried. Frank had discussed the situation with Dr. Eisner on many occasions, but all the good doctor could do was shake his head and tell Frank "When you are genuinely grateful for his actions, you'll both be free. So long as you continue to bear the slightest of grudges, then you're stuck with him." Not what Frank had wanted to hear, but the man was right. How could he ever forgive the man who was responsible for so many of his physical and mental injuries?

Frank punched the button on the hand dryer so that he could drown out anything else Eric had to say, although it was more of an act of spite. He could still hear Eric in his head.

"Look Frank, I thought it was important to tell you… I've been getting a certain vibe since I've been here tonight." Frank just rolled his eyes and looked at Eric.

"If I had a nickel for every time you had some sort of vibe…"

"Frank, I'm serious! I've just been hearing whispers inside and outside of the club tonight!" Frank raised an eyebrow encourage the ghost to continue.

"I…I'm not sure. I don't have a connection to any of the people in this place other than you, and this place…"

"Has _so_ many pleasant memories for _us_!" Frank hissed as he stepped forward. Eric was an entire head taller than Frank, and in his life as a vampire, was five times stronger. Now he found himself stepping back from his former boyfriend, despite the fact that Frank couldn't harm him any more than he could Frank.

"It's all muffled. You're the only one I can communicate with clearly, with the exception of other mediums…"

"Then go bug them…"

"Frank! Please! I'm hearing dangerous things, something's going to happen tonight. I'm worried that you and Phil…"

"You leave Phil out of this!" Frank shouted, color rising in his cheeks. "You have tried to tear Phil and I apart at almost every turn. Don't even think of trying to do the same by getting into my head somehow!"

"You don't understand! I've changed! Being…dead… and being stuck in this crazy limbo has really opened my eyes." Eric insisted.

"Pffft…save your breath…er…voice, what ever!" Frank started to walk away.

"I no longer want to keep you and Phil apart. You two belong together, I can see that now, and I know you're getting married in about a month. And… I know you want me to move on before that happens." Frank stopped and slowly turned back around to face Eric. The ghost could see several emotions cross Frank's handsome features, but the one that struck him the most was that of desperation. Eric sighed.

"Just be careful out there tonight. Both of you, all of you! I know Amy was very disappointed in me in the end, but I don't want her hurt either."

"I'll try to keep that in mind." Frank said stiffly and was out of the men's room like a shot.

….

"Hey Baby!" Phil kissed Frank's cheek when he rejoined him at the table, but he could tell from Frank's pale complexion that something was up. Frank handed Tony his stain stick back to him as he was leaving for the dance floor with Robyn.

"What's wrong?" Phil asked lowly, leaning in to put an arm around his fiancé.

"I had a really uncomfortable conversation with the Ex (their title for Eric whenever he was brought up in conversation) in the restroom." Phil couldn't help but feel overprotective and helpless at the same time. Althuogh he didn't have a gift like Frank's to see or hear Eric or he'd love to throttle or bless the pain-in-the-ass out. G-d it felt so satisfying to beat the crap out of him last summer. But the asshole did die saving Frank, he had to remind himself.

"Good G-d, he can't even leave you alone on your birthday!" Phil complained.

"Oddly enough he was wishing me a happy birthday." Frank took a long drink from his highball glass. Biff was their designated driver tonight, it was his birthday, and he was just harassed by the ghost of his Ex… so… to hell with it!

"I'm going to the bar for another, how's your drink?"

"I'm good Babe." Phil gave him another quick kiss on the cheek. "Don't be long, I want to get you out on that dance floor."

The older Hardy brother weaved and maneuvered his way through the crowd until he made it to the bar. Frank set his glass and cash on the bar when he got the bartender's attention.

"Captain and Coke please!" Frank leaned in so the bartender could hear him over the crowd. The bartender smiled and shook his head.

"Mr. T said your drinks were on the house tonight, Mr. Hardy. Your money's no good." He handed Frank's cash back to him and prepared the drink. Frank nodded his thanks and made his way back to the table to rejoin his party.

"Eh?" A man addressed the bartender, " How's he get off with free drinks? I've worked my ass off all day and pretty boy gets free drinks?"

"Mr. Hardy is a good friend of the owners." the bartender answered back as he filled another order.

"Hardy?" The man turned toward his companion. "It was a Hardy that got Nora arrested? Ain't that right Ramon?" A tall, dark haired man turned away from the buxom brunette he was chatting up to look in the direction his buddy was pointing in. Sure enough there was "Terry", the so-called North Cast technician that apparently gathered evidence right out from under Nora Halstead's nose. Now Nora was incarcerated and in the throes of an ugly preliminary hearing for a capital murder case.

And Ramon Hernandez? He'd been brought in for questioning, and thankfully Nora had done most of the damage long before she and Ramon ever met. But he'd been advised by the State's Attorney's office not to leave the state of New York, he may be needed for more questioning and possible testimony at the trial. Just fucking great.

His association with the Halstead murder did his professional and social life no favors. His private yoga clientele had dropped off to nearly nil as soon as his name was mentioned in the local paper as being present at the time of Nora Halstead's arrest. Now he was reduced to going back to his former gym and teaching yoga and step classes to middle aged women. Not sexy.

He watched as that Hardy prick made his way over to a table and sat down beside a man with black wavy hair and a well-trimmed beard and moustache that was maintained to look like a three day growth. Ramon's eyes widened with surprise when he saw Hardy kiss the other man on the cheek. Damn, Nora was right! He really did play for the other team. Too bad Ramon's acting skills weren't good enough to have convinced Hardy to come downstairs to the gym for that "fun" he'd promised. Nora wouldn't be in jail and there'd be one less queer in the world.

"Yeah Glen, that's him." Ramon finally answered his friend and raised his glass to take another shot of whiskey.

…

"Alright Frank, that's your second drink! Dance! Now!" Phil stood and held his hand out to Frank who had just finished his cocktail.

"Oh G-d you are so hot when you get all demanding." Frank said dreamily. Biff chuckled at his friends' bantering but he felt a cool hand on his own.

"Do not think you are getting off so easily. I like this particular song."

"Amy, would you care do dance?" Biff asked with a smile.

"It would be my pleasure." She slipped her delicate hand into his and let him lead the way to the dance floor.

"You coming Chet and Beth?" Frank asked his friend and his date.

"We'll sit this one out…" Chet began.

"We're having fun watching you guys and chatting about anything other than the hospital." Beth said brightly. Chet put his arm around her and gave her a slight squeeze. Each couple found a vacant spot on the dance floor and began to gently sway as Expresso's female lead crooned Adele's "Make You Feel My Love."

Frank and Phil wound up closer to the bar than Frank would have liked, but they looked into each other's eyes and as the melody and the words to the song filled their ears, the world just melted away. Frank lost himself in Phil's honey and hazel eyes, his full soft lips, his slightly crooked nose. There was nothing about this man that Frank didn't love. He smiled inwardly as Phil was silently singing the lyrics with the band, mouthing the words as he stared at Frank. Phil's lips came so close to Frank's as he sang along the brunette could feel the warm exhale and cool inhale of his breath on his own lips.

Frank mouthed "I love you" and Phil stopped his quiet singing to smile and return the sentiment. Frank pulled him a little closer and rested his head in the crook of Phil's neck. Phil took the hand whose fingers were interlaced with Frank's and put it over his heart. Frank could feel the thrum of Phil's heart under his fingers. It was the most glorious sensation in the world. He tried to push the memory down, but flashes of last summer's horrors began to resurface…

_Phil bound and gagged in that horrible basement. Phil's neck slashed. The light leaving his eyes. It had been so real, and yet it wasn't. Then Phil appeared at the dock, he held him, he stayed by him… Nothing was more precious to Frank in his life now that Phillip Cohen._

Frank was snapped back to reality when he felt a jolt from behind and found himself almost falling into Phil's arms.

"Oh! 'Cuse me." A woman giggled and she righted herself. "I wasn't looking where I was …"

"It's alright…" Phil and Frank began to say when all three of them were cut off by the woman's dance partner.

"You don't need to apologize Baby. These two fags need to watch where the Hell they're goin'!" The man spat.

"Excuse me!" Phil exploded. He'd dealt with homophobia and bullies a lot longer than Frank had, but it had been quite a while since he'd heard such asinine rudeness.

Frank suddenly recognized the man harassing them, Ramon Hernandez, Nora Halstead's yoga instructor. Frank put a halting hand on Phil's chest.

"Phil, it's okay, we'll go to the other side of the dance floor." The less dealings he had with Hernandez outside the courtroom, the better, or all that hard work and investigating would go down the drain if a conflict of interest arose with a witness and one of the investigators.

"No, it's not "Okay" Frank! We've got just as much of a right to be here as…" But Ramon staggered forward on wobbly legs and got in Phil's face. Another man who was swaying as he stood had come to the dance floor to back him up.

"Just 'cuz they pass all those laws you fags think you can do what ever the fuck you want anywhere…"

"Excuse me sir, would you please come with me?"

Danny Silvo had started to maneuver closer to the dance floor as he watched his two "chowda heads" move in the same direction with a couple of girls from the bar to dance. He'd watched as the taller of the two men inched his way closer and closer to Mr. T's friends when he backed the brunette he was dancing with into Frank.

"Shawn, I think we got a possible sitch in progress with those knuckleheads I mentioned earlier, they're headin' over toward Mr. T's buddies." He said discreetly as he pressed the button on his communication device.

"On my way D. I'll let Marco know"

Danny now had a firm hand around the taller man's bicep. Shawn had arrived by then and was keeping an eye on the shorter drunk to make sure he didn't do anything stupid too.

"Hey, I haven't done anything wrong!" Ramon protested as Danny tried to lead him off the dance floor. "That son-of-a-bitch backed into my girl." Glen brusquely moved his arm as Shawn started to escort him away too, but wisely followed Danny and Ramon toward the door.

"Yeah, well accidents happen. It's nothing to get that riled up about or to start calling names." Shawn reprimanded the tall man.

"You two have had enough to drink and the management feels it would be best if you left for the night." Danny added.

"Gentlemen, it was my pleasure to call a cab for you. If you drove here, your vehicles will be safe in our parking lot until you come back in the morning to get them." Marco said as he opened the door to Pasquale's where, indeed, a yellow cab was waiting at the entrance.

"What the hell kinda business you runnin' here Prito?" Glen said loudly enough that anyone near the entrance of Pasquale's could not help but hear. "Free drinks for queers? Kicking out straight folks just because they bump into them? If I'd known this was a fuckin' gay bar I'd have taken my ass somewhere else tonight!"

Something inside Marco Prito wanted to literally kick the man to the curb, just like back in the good old days. But he took a steadying breath and as calmly as possible pronounced just as loudly to address his drunken patron and anyone within earshot.

"Pasquale's is a family run business that does not discriminate against their patrons. We do however how have a strict policy about public drunkenness and over intoxication, and you boys have reached your limit! Please enter the cab and have a safe ride home." Marco could still see the looks of shock and curiosity on the nearby patrons' faces, but several were nodding silently in approval. That made Marco feel a little better about handling these two drunks. Tony was so much better at this sort of thing. Speaking of Tony…

The moment the two drunks were at least a block away Marco caught up to Tony at the table reserved for Frank's birthday party. The party mood seemed to have deflated as the entire group had returned to the table discussing what had happened. Biff and Chet's faces were red with righteous indignation that their friends had been insulted in such a way. Amy was her usual cool self, although she did look slightly pissed off. Beth had probably witnessed much worse rude and intolerant displays of behavior after working in an Emergency Room for years, but the poor girl was probably hoping to escape such things on a date night. And Robyn was trying to soothe a very worried and fretted Tony, whose face paled as he saw his older brother approach their table.

"That asshole didn't lay a hand on you, did he Phil? I should have asked earlier incase we needed to press charges." Marco asked.

"Thanks to your boys it didn't get that far. He got in my face, but that was the extent of it."

"And you Frank?"

"I'm fine, I have a feeling he forced his dance partner back into me, but it's more of a he said, she said matter." Frank squeezed Phil's hand, he could tell Phil was still stewing over Ramon's homophobic comments.

"Guys, I am so sorry that happened!" Tony started but Frank cut him off.

"It's okay. You can't expect everyone who walks through those doors to be open minded. And alcohol can bring out the worst in anyone." Marco sighed, relived that his patrons were alright. He put a hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Hey Anthony, come with me to the kitchen. I believe there's a cheesecake with Frank's name on it, that oughta get this party going again!" Marco squeezed Tony's shoulder, a silent message between the two that meant "Right now, damn it!"

"Oh, how could I have forgotten? We get our pastries and baked goods from Julia's on Fifth Street." Tony informed them. The humans in the group gasped and perked up a the mention of the bakery. Julia's on Fifth's baked goods had gained a lot of attention since their three-minute appearance on a Food Network show about the best bakeries in the state of New York. "I had a white chocolate raspberry one ordered just for Frankie's birthday. Lemme go get it from the big fridge!"

Tony stood up from the table and gave Robyn a quick kiss on the cheek. When they were out of earshot Marco lit in on his younger brother.

"Frank's drink's were on the house tonight?" he hissed.

"Hey, I told the guys at the bar to put it on my tab, it's his birthday. I told you earlier today we were good." Tony snapped.

"Well next time you decide to put your buddies' drinks on your tab, educate the bartenders on how to handle it more discreetly… Maybe go ahead and take their money and then subtract it from their dinner bill or something! Those two homophobes were all up in arms that Frank got his drinks free tonight. The reason why was none of their damn business, but still, not everyone is as up to speed on mixed couples in places like this as we are… We have to be careful, we're still too new on the block and a bad rep will kill us!"

Tony shrugged his shoulder out from under his brother's grasp.

"And don't forget," Marco continued, "_Councilman_ Blackmon's _daughter_ was here tonight, a guest of one of the _owners_! We don't need a scandal, or have us on his shit list because his daughter was here when there was an _incident_. The last thing we need is for the public to think our place is not safe!"

"I get it! I get it!" Tony insisted. "Now will you please relax?"

"The band is getting ready to take a break." Marco sighed. "I'll go check on the bar's stock before the DJ takes over."


End file.
